


daring me to touch

by howlingheartdemigod (helpmeimstuckon)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, POV shift, Set in the downtime of ep 62, Sparring, Sparring instead of talking, Talking, i remain incapable of writing fight scenes, third person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 17:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19214122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helpmeimstuckon/pseuds/howlingheartdemigod
Summary: Something about the chill in the air told Yasha it was at least two in the morning. It didn’t make a difference, the time. It was always dark in Rasahna, but still, it was late, and the house was silent, and Yasha could not sleep. She’d tried taking her bedroll and laying out on the balcony, but a starless sky made her stomach twist. The absence of even the farthest pinpoint of light felt like a looming threat. Even at home there were stars.~Yasha can't sleep. Luckily, she's not the only one.





	daring me to touch

**Author's Note:**

> originally written as a prompt fill on tumblr  
> "Yasha can't sleep at night in a room and a roof so she goes downstairs and sees Beau in the training room, she can't sleep either for different reasons"  
> find me there at howlingheartdemigod
> 
> I know this isn't what anyone expected from this prompt, but I am incapable of containing the angst.  
> title from a softer sea comic number [-07]
> 
> please excuse any typos/grammer mistakes. my beta got a new job (yay!) and didn't have time to edit this

Something about the chill in the air told Yasha it was at least two in the morning. It didn’t make a difference, the time. It was always dark in Rasahna, but still, it was late, and the house was silent, and Yasha could not sleep. She’d tried taking her bedroll and laying out on the balcony, but a starless sky made her stomach twist. The absence of even the farthest pinpoint of light felt like a looming threat. Even at home there were stars. 

So, Yasha’d taken to wandering silently through the house, checking every alcove, testing every window, worrying. Worrying about being called away again, about having to leave them in this house. 

It was odd, having a house, having a roof over their head, having somewhere anyone who knew of them could find them. It was the reality of what was keeping her up, the idea that she’d be away and someone would come here, to this home they’d been given, and hurt her friends while she was gone. 

Yasha shook off that thought, looking at the chimes, thinking of watching Caleb set alarms over and over, knowing they’d be fine. They would be  _ fine _ . They had to be fine. Yasha turned to head down to the training room regardless, just to practice, just in case.

As she drew near she heard the familiar sound of a fist hitting a training bag, of labored breathing, of quick feet on stone a stone floor.  _ Beau _ , a smile passed Yasha’s lips at the thought. She padded quietly, trying not to disrupt. She leaned in the darkened doorway, watching Beau quietly. 

The woman was damn near a blur, moving from one side to the other, landing hits against the dangling sandbag, flinging herself off the ground to land kicks that seemed near impossible. Beau was an incredible fighter. Yasha’d known that for a long time, but seeing it in action always made something in her chest tighten. She watched Beau swing her staff as she landed a kick, hitting the mark from two angles at once. She was magic, she was amazing. Beau was incredible, and Yasha could never do anything about it.

That was a shitty truth, Yasha rolled it over in her head as Beau hit the bag with another series of attacks. Yasha couldn’t help how she felt for Beau. Beau was amazing, she was brash and impulsive, she was thoughtful and caring, she tried so hard to be a good person, and when she failed, she tried to fix it. And she was gorgeous. That would have been clear to a blind woman. Yasha watched the light catch and glint off Beau’s skin. The muscle built for speed and precision, cutting blue eyes, a smile that was so rare it felt like a prize every time it appeared. Beau was a sight. A sight Yasha half wished she’d never seen. 

Suddenly, Beau swung around, flinging a dart directly at Yasha’s face. Yasha’s barely brought her hand up quick enough to deflect it the few inches to send it flying into the hall behind her, letting out a little gasp of shock. A moment of silence held as their eyes locked, reconisition settling on Beau. 

“Fuck, Yash.” Beau called, as realization crashed around her of exactly who she’d tried to send a knife into the face of. “You can’t sneak up on a girl like that.”

Yasha stepped into the dim lantern light, trying to shake off the panic. “I didn’t think I was being sneaky.” 

Yasha watched Beau curl her shoulders down, working at taking the bindings off her hands. “Well, right, uh…” 

“You couldn’t sleep?” Yasha asked quietly. Beau’s head lifted, the furrow to her brow giving away the defense bubbling to her lips, but before she could speak, Yasha continued, “Me neither.” 

Beau slumped a little, turning to face her. “It’s weird, right?” Beau said, a smile on her lips. “I mean it’s nice, it’s a nice house, but… It’s weird.”

“Yes.” Yasha said, a smile coming to her lips. “Very. There are no stars.”

“Right?!” Beau replied, throwing a hand up. “It’s, like, I get the sun thing, but the moons aren’t gonna cause you trouble. Drop the spell, you know?” 

Yasha moved into the space, nodding. “I’ve never been without stars long, not that I can remember. It’s unsettling.” 

Beau wandered towards one of the benches, dropping down like exhaustion was overtaking her. “I mean, other than in the tunnels, same for me.” Yasha’s eyes caught on the flex of Beau’s arm as she stretched out her shoulders, then flipped her hands, checking for breaking and bruising. “I can get out of your way, if you wanted to use the room.” 

Yasha’s breath caught, Beau’s voice was so soft, so apologetic. “You’re welcome to stay. I’m the one intruding.” Yasha looked to the mats, gesturing stiffly. “We could spar.” 

A small cocky smile slowly spread across Beau’s lips, and Yasha wanted to wipe it off her, with a kiss or a blow, she hadn’t decided. “Last time we fought, you were mind controlled.”

A frown pulled across Yasha’s lips, and she turned away, heading for the ring. “I remember. Unfortunately.”

Beau hummed. “What I remember is that you couldn’t land a hit on me.” The lift of the brow was a challenge, and Yasha had never been one to shy away from one before.

“That won’t be an issue this time.” She assured, dropping her furs off. She loved the little hitch in Beau’s breath at it. She loved the way Beau’s eyes caught on her arms like they hadn’t in months. Even before she’d known of Zuala, Beau had been pulling away, looking elsewhere, not caring quite as much, it felt. Yasha had, despite herself, missed the attention. She missed Beau’s flirting and praise. She missed being the focus of Beau’s attention, however shallow it had been. It was nice, even with the guilt that chased it. 

Beau pushed to her feet, nodding a little. “If you say so.” She said, coming to the edge of the ring, weight resting on her toes, entire lithe form taught with anticipation. 

Yasha smiled, stretching her arms out a little, “I think you’ll find that I do.” 

Beau smiled, Yasha smiled, and then they threw themselves at each other.

 

* * *

 

Beau was panting, heart pounding, with Yasha hovering over her, pinning her to the floor.

Unfortunately, none of the context was right. 

Beau tried to break Yasha’s grip, but the other woman’s strength outmatched Beau’s agility. She strained, arching her back, then dropped. “Fuck, fine, you win.” Beau said, through heavy breaths.

Beau would sell the world for the smile on Yasha’s face. Which, fuck. 

Beau was trying, so fucking hard, to be less of an asshole. Yasha’d never been interested in her flirting, and knowing that Yasha had been, was  _ still _ , married sent Beau into a horrible spiral of guilt. She’d been flirting with a  _ married woman _ . Beau had never been one to care before, marriage seemed like nothing but a way to figure out property division and complicate family trees, but to Yasha, it mattered. So much that she’d been collecting flowers for her wife since before Beau knew her. She needed to get her shit together, Yasha wasn’t going to be interested in her. Even if she hadn’t been married, why would she have been? Yasha was strong, and brave, a survivor of the worst of the world. Beau was just… Beau. Yasha’d never be interested in her.

Which, Beau couldn’t reasonably be upset by that. It wasn’t like Beau was in love with her, those sort of dramatics weren’t something she was interested in. She’d wanted to sleep with Yasha, sure, but it didn’t go beyond that. It couldn’t. It never would.

Though, Yasha’d gotten the idea of  _ more _ , of something  _ important _ , something _ lasting _ into her head. Now when she looked at Yasha there was a little spark of curiosity. A little spark of wondering what that would be like, or loving someone so much that you bound yourself to them for eternity. It wasn’t Beau’s scene, forever. But, she wondered sometimes if Yasha could have been that for her in another life. 

Beau threw her head back against the padding as Yasha pulled herself to her feet. “Fuck, that last slam  _ hurt _ , Yash.” Beau complained, reaching up to rub at her shoulder, where she’d taken the hardest of the blow that sent her to the ground. 

“I was unaware you were afraid of a little pain.” Yasha replied, hand on her hip, victorious. There was a glint of humor in her eye, a smile pulling at her lips. Yasha was teasing her, and the feeling it sent up in Beau’s stomach was unacceptable. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to kiss her.

Beau settled for sitting up, a smile on her lips. “I mean a  _ little _ is one thing…” She replied, a laugh chasing the words. 

Yasha dropped her dramatic pose, and moved to help Beau stand. “Is your shoulder alright?” The rasp in Yasha’s voice rattled something in Beau that she tried to ignore. 

She rolled her shoulder back, only flinching a little at the shock of pain. “It’ll be fine in the morning.” She said. “Maybe a little stiff.” Beau felt the heat of Yasha’s hand, resting on her before she could register the movement, then the sparking warmth of magic tingling across her skin. “Yasha…” 

“Now you won’t be stiff.” Yasha cut her off with a soft smile. “It’s good for you to be healed up. Who knows what we might come across.”

Beau pressed her lips, then nodded. “Right.”

There was a moment, a moment when the air felt thin, when Beau’s eyes caught Yasha’s, when she felt like she saw something behind Yasha’s eyes. Then Yasha’s brow furrowed, gaze dropping, and she stepped back. “You ought to rest, Beauregard.” She said, turning to pick up her furs. 

Beau didn’t know what to say, she didn’t know how to apologize for breaking the moment, even though she wasn’t sure how she had. She didn’t know how to tag on another apology or two while she was at it. She didn’t know how to explain that she’d never even considered something as permanent as marriage, she’d never considered she might be the sort of person someone would want forever. She wanted to tell her that Zuala sounded amazing. Wanted to tell her that if she was someone Yasha loved then there was no way Beau wouldn’t like her. 

Instead Beau just nodded, and turned to pick up her staff. “We should both sleep.” 

She saw Yasha nod out of the corner of her eye. “I will.” she told her. “I am just going to get a little more practice in.” 

Beau nodded, then headed towards the door. “That, uh, that was fun. We should do that again.” Beau said over her shoulder, trying to ignore the heat lingering on her face. “Thanks, Yasha.” 

“Anytime.” Yasha’s reply was quiet, a distant roll of thunder. 

Beau nodded, trying to keep from being too hurt, then turned to leave. 

 

* * *

 

Yasha stared at the wall a while, guilt pooling in her stomach. Beauregard was beautiful, sure. Beauregard was incredible, and strong, and in another life, maybe she would have been interested in her, sure. But she could, under no circumstances, be developing feelings for Beauregard. 

For Beau, her friend, her party member, her teammate. 

And yet. 

And yet, Beau had laughed at her dumb joke, and yet Beau had smiled at her, and yet, when Yasha looked at Beau something in her stomach flipped over in a way it hadn’t since she’d been falling in love with Zuala. 

Yasha’d looked at Beau, had healed her pain, had teased her, and had looked at her, and her only thought had been how very nice it would be to see her in the early morning light, somewhere far away, soft, and kind.

Yasha stared at the doorway Beau had disappeared through, and sighed, reaching to run a hand through her hair. “Oh shit.” she muttered. “Oh  _ shit. _ ” 

If Yasha thought she couldn’t sleep before, it was truly hopeless now. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! leave a comment if you liked it. find me at howlingheartdemigod on tumblr if you want to send prompts my way


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